


Prince Arthur and the Black Knight

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [76]
Category: Merlin (TV), Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Arthurian, BAMF Arthur, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode Related, Episode: s01e09 Excalibur, Excalibur, First Time, Immortal Merlin, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology References, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 07:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12185373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: Canon era AU. On the eve of his confirmation as Crown Prince, Arthur is challenged to a duel by the mysterious Black Knight.Written for Merlin Canon Fest 2017 (Episode 01x09: Excalibur).





	Prince Arthur and the Black Knight

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve always loved the way this ep harked back to the original Arthurian mythos, so when I was asked to pinch-hit for the episode I couldn’t resist the chance to rewrite it along more (…or less) traditional lines. I would have loved to make this longer, but alas, I didn’t have the time. Still, I hope you enjoy it anyway! 
> 
> Many thanks to Pelydryn for the last-minute beta, and to ji_ang for looking it over once I was done :)

 

 

The Knight was dressed in black from top to toe, his head covered with a helmet that made it impossible to glimpse the face within. Despite the fact that it had just broken through a stained-glass window, his horse seemed uninjured and unperturbed, blowing softly as its rider drew rein only a few feet from where Arthur stood.

 

“Prince Arthur,” the Black Knight said. “I challenge you.”

 

The gauntlet landed at his feet with a heavy thud that belied its slender size; Arthur had no choice but to pick it up.

 

“Then I accept,” he said, avoiding his father’s gaze. “I'll meet you in the courtyard at dawn tomorrow.”

 

“So be it.”

 

❅

 

As challenger, the Black Knight was the one who set the terms for the battle.

 

“I will give you my axe,” he said. “And you may strike one blow anywhere on my body, on the proviso that I will do the same to you in return, one year and one day hence.”

 

It was a fool’s bargain, even Arthur could see that much, but he refrained from asking the obvious question. His father was not so circumspect. “What sorcery is this?” the King demanded. “My son could take you apart with one blow!”

 

The Black Knight did not waver. “Those are my terms,” he said, his voice echoing hollowly from within the dark cowl. “Your son has already accepted. Will he prove himself a coward and withdraw?”

 

“I am no coward,” Arthur said, over Uther’s protests. “Hand me your axe.”

 

He thought he saw a glitter of satisfaction in the deep-set blue eyes, but could not be sure.

 

❅

 

Arthur hefted the axe in both hands. It was almost too heavy to lift, and his muscles strained as he remained poised to strike. He wondered that the Black Knight was able to lift it, since the man was so much slimmer than he was. Perhaps he was stronger than he looked.

 

“Kneel,” he told the Knight. The Knight went to his knees with surprising docility. “Have you any last requests?”

 

There was a smile in the Knight’s voice as he replied, “Only that I hope you are a man of your word.”

 

❅

 

The axe fell cleanly. The Black Knight’s head rolled across the floor, trailing dust but no blood with it. One of the noblewomen screamed, then fainted dead away as the corpse reached out and gripped the mirrored helm, holding its severed head aloft.

 

“You have one year,” the Black Knight said. “And you may keep the axe.”

 

 

There was never any question that the prince would fulfil his promise when the time came.

 

“It’s a trap,” said his father.

 

“You’re going to die,” said Sir Gawain, who was always the bluntest of the other knights.

 

“At least let me come with you,” pleaded Sir Lancelot. But Arthur’s answer was always the same.

 

Accordingly, when the year had turned and the nights had begun to grow longer, Arthur loaded up his horse and set out to meet his destiny. His father and the other knights gathered at the gates to watch him go, their hearts heavy as the prince’s golden head disappeared between the trees.

 

They did not want to believe Arthur would ride so casually to his death, but nor could they bring themselves to believe they would see him again.

 

❅

 

Arthur had many adventures on his travels, as all knights do, but at every village he asked after the whereabouts of the Black Knight, and at every village he was told that he would find the Black Knight in the Ruined Castle, the one in the woods further east of here.

 

When Arthur rode east, however, leaving tales of his great deeds behind him, the castle he found was no ruin, and he was welcomed at the door not by a knight but by a beautiful maiden, with long dark hair and a deep purple dress that highlighted her pale skin.

 

“The Black Knight does not live here,” said the maiden, who introduced herself as Freya. “But there is a Ruin to the east, where it is rumoured that strange things happen. It is only a few days ride away.”

 

“Then that is where I must go.” Arthur bowed, and kissed her hand. “Thank you.”

 

“Stay here,” Freya said, and blushed. “That is, my brother is out hunting at present, but he would never forgive me if I didn’t offer you a place to rest. Please, stay and refresh yourself before you continue on your journey.”

 

“Your brother?”

 

“The lord of this castle,” she said. “His name is Merlin.”

 

❅

 

Merlin and his sister looked much alike: but where her beauty was soft and self-effacing, Merlin’s was undeniable, all stark cheek-bones and confronting black curls. Caught off-guard, Arthur said the first thing that came into his head.

 

“I suppose it must have been a poor day for hunting.”

 

Merlin, who had returned home empty-handed, flushed with obvious annoyance. “Perhaps I simply don’t enjoy killing defenceless animals,” he said, “when I have more than enough to feed myself. But if my table displeases you, sire, then by all means, tell me, and I will remedy it.”

 

“I didn’t mean to offend you–– ” Arthur began, but the damage was already done.

 

“In fact, I’ll make you a wager,” Merlin went on, his blue eyes snapping fiercely at Arthur across the room. Helpless, the prince subsided. “For whatever I gain on my hunt during your stay here, you must give me what you gain by staying in the castle.”

 

There was little enough to gain in the castle except for time, but it would be bad manners to refuse his host. And so, in a daze, Arthur accepted.

 

❅

 

By the time Arthur came downstairs the following morning, Merlin was already gone.

 

“He wanted to get an early start,” Freya said, something like a smile sweetening her mouth. “I think he must want to impress you.”

 

“I’m afraid I angered him,” Arthur admitted. “I didn’t think before I spoke.”

 

“No matter.” Freya waved a delicate hand. “I’m sure he will forgive you.”

 

The prince was not so certain, but he let it pass. Instead, he bowed to the young lady and asked if there was any way he might assist her: for it was obvious that, despite her claims to the contrary, she was far from well.

 

“Oh, Prince Arthur,” Freya said, kissing him gratefully on one cheek. “You are kind.”

 

❅

 

Merlin returned from hunting in the late evening, just as he had done the day before, only this time he had a brace of rabbits slung over his shoulders. He laid them on the table in front of Arthur.

 

“Does this meet with your satisfaction?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. Arthur could only stare back at him, uncertain what impulse it was that drove him to say:

 

“Two small coneys, for a whole day’s hunt?” He smirked. “A child could do it.”

 

That made Merlin glare, and he folded his arms. “And I suppose you fared better, did you?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Arthur said, stepping forward boldly. All he had to exchange was Freya’s kiss, chaste as it had been, but watching Merlin turn scarlet was more than worth it.

 

❅

 

The next day, Arthur tried to let Freya down gently.

 

“I have nothing to offer you,” he said. “Even were I not a prince, when the New Year comes I must meet the Black Knight and allow him to cut off my head. So you see, it would be cruel to court you.”

 

“What about my brother?”

 

Arthur glanced away. “He knows I must go to meet my fate.”

 

Freya gave him a long, measured look.

 

“Kind _and_ honourable,” she said finally, and kissed him on both cheeks.

 

❅

 

This time, when Merlin laid a young hart at Arthur’s feet, he lifted his chin almost defiantly as he waited for the prince’s rebuttal.

 

“Have you something for me, my lord?” he asked, again in that mockingly deferential tone.

 

“I have,” Arthur said, unable to hold back a smile.

 

If he lingered a little with his kisses, this time, well: neither of them were complaining.

 

❅

 

On the third morning, Arthur woke to find Freya sitting at the end of his bed, a cloth-wrapped parcel in her arms.

 

“My lady?” Arthur sat bolt upright, covering himself with the sheet as best he could. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I have a gift for you,” Freya said, holding it out to him. The bundle was long and slender, and even shrouded as it was, there could be no doubt it was a sword. “It will keep you safe, if you will but wear it.”

 

Arthur took it from her reverently and peeled back the cloth. Beneath, there lay an elegant weapon, the finest forged blade he had ever seen. He lifted it from its scabbard and held it so that it caught the light.

 

“Take me up,” Arthur read, tracing the runes on one side of the blade and then the other. “Cast me aside.” He looked at Freya. “I cannot accept this. My wager with your brother–– ”

 

“The blade was made for you,” she said, refusing to take it back. “When he asks you want you have gained today, you must not reveal it to my brother. Not until the time is right. Do you promise?”

 

“I promise,” Arthur said, after a moment. Freya’s taut face relaxed.

 

“Then I believe you.” She kissed him on both cheeks, as she had done the previous day, then after a brief hesitation pressed her lips, cool and soft, against his own.

 

“For luck,” she said, but there was mischief in her smile.

 

❅

 

Merlin came back with a stag this time, magnificent and white, twelve-pointed. He offered the catch to Arthur without a word, his cheeks flushed, eyes expectant.

 

Arthur kissed him on both cheeks for the second time, then paused, thinking of the sword hidden beneath his bed. According to the conditions of their wager, he should present it to his host along with the final kiss. But Freya had said it would protect him, and he could feel her eyes on him, waiting to see if he would keep his word.

 

“Is that all?” Merlin asked, sounding disappointed.

 

“Not quite.”

 

His heart racing, Arthur made his decision, tipping Merlin’s mouth up to meet his with a gentle finger beneath his chin.

 

Behind them, Freya discreetly excused herself and withdrew, taking the servants with her.

 

Neither Arthur nor Merlin even saw her go.

 

 

“Stay with me,” Merlin murmured, burying his face in Arthur’s hair and hooking a leg over his waist when he tried to leave. “You don’t have to face him.”

 

“I do.” Arthur kissed his fingertips. “I gave my word.”

 

“What about your heart?”

 

“You can keep that,” Arthur said, pressing Merlin’s palm against his chest. “Perhaps one day, I will come back for it.”

 

❅

 

The Ruined Castle was exactly where Merlin said it would be, nestled in an abandoned valley less than a day’s ride from Merlin’s home. The shattered crenellations were strangely familiar; the stone gargoyles, still intact, lay covered with snow and leered at him where they had fallen.

 

In the centre of the courtyard stood the Black Knight.

 

“So,” he said. “You came.”

 

“I came.” Arthur bowed. “What is this place?”

 

“It used to be my home, once.” The Black Knight withdrew an axe where it lay embedded in a stone plinth, its blade gleaming, and rested it against his shoulder. “A long time ago. Will you kneel?”

 

“I prefer to face my death upright,” Arthur said, his hand gripping the pommel of his enchanted sword. He thought of Freya, and of Merlin’s anguished face, and squared his shoulders.

 

“So be it,” said the Knight, and swung.

 

❅

 

“You flinched,” the Knight said.

 

Arthur, standing with his eyes closed, opened them to glare. “I did not.”

 

“You did.” Strange, to hear that hollow voice sound–– almost _gleeful_. “Let me try again.”

 

❅

 

The second strike also missed: Arthur felt the breeze of it against his face.

 

“Are you toying with me, Sir Knight?” he accused, cracking open one eyelid. “I came here to face you as an honourable man. But if you think this is a game–– ”

 

“No game,” said the Knight. “But I’m afraid I don’t enjoy killing defenceless things.”

 

Arthur’s eyes opened all the way, and his throat went dry. “Take off your helm,” he croaked. He knew where he had seen this castle before.

 

Sure enough, when the Knight’s visor came off, dark hair and pained blue eyes stared back at him. “I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered, and raised the axe for the third time.

 

❅

 

The sting of the blade at his throat was swift and sharp, but Arthur didn’t flinch, didn’t even reach for the sword. He would not let it be said that he had cowered in the face of death, no matter who delivered it.

 

It was a long time before he realised he was still standing.

 

“Is that it?” he asked, without opening his eyes. When he looked, Merlin was staring at him strangely.

 

“You have my sword.”

 

Arthur touched the thin red line at his neck, which was, miraculously, still attached to his head.

 

“It was a gift.”

 

“You didn’t use it.”

 

“I made a promise to a lady,” Arthur said, in his haughtiest voice. Then, more uncertainly, he said, “Are you complaining?”

 

Merlin reached out and brushed his fingers over the wound, and Arthur shivered.

 

“You broke the curse,” Merlin said finally, looking up into Arthur’s face with a brilliant smile. “So, no, I’m not complaining at all.”

 

 


End file.
